


mixtapes

by vxxv



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, M/M, Modern AU, Oral Sex, Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Vaginal Sex, canonverse, dogging... kinda, more characters and pairs to be added, slight size kink?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-10-25 23:42:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vxxv/pseuds/vxxv
Summary: a collection of one shots about my favourite shingeki pairings and characters. will include various ratings.updates will be sporadic.





	1. spicy eremikas

**Author's Note:**

> i told myself i was gonna back off the ol eremika for a while but i failed at that so here’s some un-beta’d porn in honour of mikasa’s birthday.

“please, please, plea—“

it is rare that it’s like this, that it’s just the two of them. they have a moment, the first time in a long time, and eren can feel his skin begin to slick with sweat, his newly purchased dress shirt sticking to his skin. all around him feels hot—boiling even, the heat from the fire in the illuminating the living space in the military police’s headquarters, a golden inferno in the room. mikasa kisses him, holds on, tight, digs her hands into his shoulders and fists his hair, dragging him and pulling him whichever way she wants, however she wants, and eren can’t muster the strength to care: all he wants is mikasa.

he pushes her further back into the sofa, her, not even attempting to protest, her hot hands trembling against his skin as he lifts her thighs, rucks her long skirt up over her hips.

in eren’s head it all seems so loud—mikasa’s tiny, needing whimpers and the sharp crackle of the fire are all that he hears, but the volume is deafening.

her legs — _knees_ — hang over his shoulder, his mouth watering to taste her cunt, her work boots digging into the white of his shirt, surely leaving stains and scuffle marks, as if they weren’t in the streets moments ago, running home, longing for this.

“i wanna fuck you.”

the way he tells her is merely a whisper, but it is laden with lust, and she wants nothing more than for him to sink into her, ruin her, take her apart. she can only whimper in reply, thighs slick with sweat and arousal. she scrambles to get her panties off as eren pulls her blouse open, exposing her stomach, wet with rivulets of sweat in the creases of her abdomen, her breasts heavy and heaving with solid breaths, nipples protruding through the flimsy fabric over her bralette. 

he grabs at it; pulling the fabric down over her breasts, lurching forward to kiss and lick at her sternum before taking a nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue tasting sweat and the bitter tang of soap and perfume. his teeth close around it — and he _bites_ — she moans, loudly, with no shame, pitchy cries emptying from her chest.

his mouth is on her breasts, neck and sternum, he keeps his firm hands on her thighs, worn and weary fingers leaving blossoming bruises against the porcelain. his mouth is so hot, so, so hot — every breath against her throat, his mouth leaves a dewy sensation on her skin. 

they kiss, and it’s brief, and his hot breath ghosts against her cunt.

mikasa likes teeth, always has. he bites and nips and it makes her shake. he drags his tongue all along her slit, collecting wetness and pushing his tongue inside her, teeth bare against the plush pink flesh of her pussy.

“you taste so fucking good,” he spits into the wetness, dives back in for more; the tip of his tongue circling her clit, nose buried in her pubic hair. 

she cums; shudders and gasps, air trapped in her throat, her back arching against the velour sofa as her nails bite into the cushions.

“you wanna taste yourself?”

mikasa nods, eager to have him kiss her again, eager for him to push his tongue into her mouth, to taste that slightly tangy and sour slick. she loves his tongue in her mouth, on her skin, in her cunt.

he pulls back again, undoing his belt and pants, shucking them and his underwear loose, pushing mikasa’s knees back until the almost rest near her shoulders.

she should feel humiliated, she thinks, spread wide like a slut, but she delights in seeing the hunger in eren’s eyes, knowing that her bodily responses only make his desire rocket.

his cock is thick, and mikasa has not seen many. it’s long, girthy, grinds against her cunt just right, feels like he’s carving a space with it, and she never fails to feel filled.

eren collects wetness from her pussy and slicks his cock with it since lube is not an option right now. he draws his cockhead along her slit, pushing it teasingly against her cum-slick lips and sensitive clit.

“tell me what you want.”

her eyes find his — they’re warm but predatorial, and somehow, patient.

“please fuck me.”

he nods, begins to push in, and her eyes flutter shut as he slides into the warm, slick heat of her pussy. it’s a tight fit, it nearly always is. eren doubles over - a sated groan pushing past his lips as he kisses her gently, pulling a lip between his teeth. “is this ok?” he asks, and mikasa simply replies and repeats with _yes, yes, yes_ as his lips brush hers again.

he pulls back again, hovering over her and pushing his hips forward and back, forward and back. his thickness feels so good in her; every time he moves she feels sensations unlike anything she has ever felt before, dragging out pleasures that have been unknown to her for as long as she could remember.

“i love your cunt,” he growls, fingers pressing harder into the supple flesh of her thighs, her knees almost touching the headrest, the lewdness of the statement makes her gasp. “tight and wet, just for me. so fucking perfect.”

mikasa seals her lips shut, attempting her best to remain quiet, quiet moans and whimpers kept behind the seam of her mouth. eren picks up the pace then, goes faster and faster and faster until the sounds of the crackling flames and is drowned out by the wet slaps of skin.

“you like my cock, don’t ya?”

she cries out at a particularly hard thrust, eren reaching under her to lift her hips so he can penetrate her at a different angle as he crowds in on her, and whatever he does feels sublime. all that hot desire making him grind up against that spot she always reaches for when she’s getting herself off. he pushes in again, swears under his breath as he dips to drag his teeth along the curve of her breast.

“yes— _yes_ —i love your cock,” she hisses, holding a breath when his eyes meet hers.

“you wanna cum?”

she nods — the words unable to manifest in her mouth, everything too damn overwhelming. 

eren’s hands are there again, off her thighs and in the mesh of her pubic hair, his fingers glistening wet as he spreads her, two fingers brought to her clit, the heel of his other hand pressing down firmly above her pubic bone.

“shit, _shit_ ”, she hisses. heart leaping in her chest, the external pressure and touches of his hands are too much, far too much, and every press and touch is so close to urging an orgasm out of her. several strokes later, and she’s done for.

she cums with a cry, pleasure spreading throughout her body as her orgasm is wrenched from within as she desperately starts clinging and panting into his shoulder.

“e—eren will yo-”

“yeah. yeah.”

eren is familiar with the request whenever they fuck. she wants him, wants all of him, the good, bad, the improper. she wants eren, the saviour of humanity, she wants eren, the boy, eren the weapon.

“c’mon, c’mon,” she coos needily, lips bruising his. “cum in me, please.”

at the request, he cums, it’s the least he could do for her as he pants and sags into her chest, fingers tightening around his locks of hair as he spills inside her. she sighs, because, _this_ , this is what she wanted.

“thank you,” she pushes eren’s undone hair away from his face, revealing his sparse eyebrows and golden eyes, mouth still pressed into her chest. “i needed that.”

 _i wanted it_ , she thinks.

his lips quirk up at her, the smallest semblance of a smile, and she loves it so much—she loves him. he chuckles.

“for the birthday girl,” he smiles, a hand reaching to take her dainty chin between his thumb and index fingers as he pulls her down for a kiss. “i love you.”

mikasa doesn’t say anything, knowing that eren will instantly know how she feels by the look in her eyes and the shimmering of wetness collecting in her water line. 

moments, minutes pass, and they check the clock adorning the wall. it’s getting late, and they’re currently somewhere they shouldn’t be. they dress quickly, snickering and attempting to hush each other when they think they hear footsteps approaching.

eren opens the latch on a window, trying not to laugh as he sees mikasa fumbling to close her blouse and urging her to jump down. she does (eventually) and he follows, the pair of them disappearing into the night, holding hands and laughing as they disappear onto a dark, unilluminated path. sprinting through the countryside at night, unknowing of what’s ahead for them.


	2. erejean idiots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eren and jean want to have public sex: how badly could this possibly go? well... very badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been working on this for like two decades, its so dumb but, i hope its fun (lmao). also really near the end u can tell that i kinda died and gave up (rip). BUT ANYWAY, enjoy.

“Dogging?”

Mikasa immediately stops slurping her noodles, and Mikasa _never_ stops slurping her noodles for anyone.

“You mean fucking in a car?” Her mouth is full as she talks and all around her mouth is broth: Eren can barely take her seriously.

“Uh, yeah,” he swallows, and shifts his gaze to Jean who is just to his left and is on the precipice of mortification or at least spontaneous combustion judging by how red his face is. “I mean, Jean and I have been talking about it and uhh--”

“You’re into it?”

Eren nods his head vigorously and Jean is covering his face in embarrassment. Of course Eren would bring this up at dinner, when Mikasa is slurping up her favourite ramen in her favourite restaurant after having a shitty day at work.

Reading the vibe was never Eren’s strong suit.

“So, you’re telling me that you want us,” she gestures to herself, Eren and Jean with her chopsticks, “to all fuck in your Volkswagen Golf?”

Eren blinks at her dumbly, like a deer caught in the headlights. Jean slaps a hand to his forehead and swears under his breath.

“That makes no sense logistics wise,” she comments, fishing around in her ramen bowl before giving Eren what Jean likes to call ‘The Honest Mikasa Face’.

“That’s a terrible idea, Eren.”

Eren gasps, spit and broth flying everywhere as his mouth drops open in a needlessly dramatic fashion, and Jean can only think about how fucking stupid he looks; broth and noodles fucking everywhere, even all over his new soccer jersey that Jean had gotten him. “You told me a while ago that you liked the idea of public sex!”

Mikasa reaches over and slaps a palm over his mouthing, hushing him in a bid to stop other patrons paying attention; Eren was a fucking loudmouth and no matter where they went he would always end up drawing attention to the three of them. She removes her palm, wiping the residue of broth and spit off her hand. “Yes. But not in your fucking golf,” she huffs, stabbing at her noodles and practically inhaling the rest of the bowl. 

“Where then?” he asks, sounding rather indigent as he begins to loudly slurp at his noodles again. Jean looks between them as he attempts to pick at the ends of his sticky rice, only managing to get a few grains at a time before deciding just to lift the bowl and push the rest into his mouth, hoping that no one will notice his struggle since his partners are loudly arguing about fucking in public and would likely not pay attention to the token white boy attempting to eat rice.

Mikasa shrugs, her eyes wide and irritated, not looking unlike she was about to jump out of her skin. “I don’t know! Somewhere secluded, like in the woods.”

“The woods? What if Jean gets a pine cone stuck up his ass?!”

Mikasa splutters, nearly choking on her noodles. 

“Eren!”

“What? You’ve seen how much it opens up wh--”

“Can we _please_ not talk about my asshole so loudly,” Jean interrupts, pulling his jumper up over his face, painfully aware at the fact that people were now watching them, feeling their eyes burning into the back of his head, likely listening to them with a mixture of disgust and intrigue. 

Eren grins at him all toothily; the ends of noodles sticking out of his mouth. “Sorry, Jeanbo”

He leans over and presses a wet noodley kiss to his cheek and Jean hates that he’s actually charmed by the disgusting display.

Mikasa rolls her eyes and tips the bowl all the way back so that the broth is completely gone. “Gross.”

“That’s good coming from you, considering last night you were as--”

“You know what! I’m just gonna go,” she stands, face turning a bright, soft pink. She begins rooting in her purse and slapping money down on the table, not bothering to even check if it was the right amount. “Have fun, please don’t get arrested! I’m going to Armin’s to help with his math.”

Jean’s brows furrow.

“Since when does Armin need help doing ma--”

Jean blinks, and with a flash, Mikasa is gone, the door swinging after her. He swears that the neon lights above the door flicker as she disappears into the Summer evening. He can’t even see her beyond the glass; she just seemingly evaporated. Then again, this was Mikasa, and Mikasa could probably move quicker than any other human he knows, so he _almost_ isn’t surprised that his possibly genetically altered girlfriend is a speed demon.

Upon returning to reality, Jean turns his attention back to his boyfriend. Eren slurps and chews the rest of his noodles as the thumping bass of the music swims overhead. 

“Fucking hell,” he tips the bowl back and begins to swallow down the chicken flavoured broth, getting it down in a few gulps before slamming the bowl back down on the table. He slaps down his own payment and turns his gaze to Jean, eyes glinting mischievously, full of deviousness and dumb intentions.

“Let’s get out of here.”

 

***

 

When Eren finally stops the car after an hour of driving around, it becomes incredibly apparent to Jean that he’s found the most cliche spot to fuck in: a car park, overlooking the city. Jean could kill Eren, he really could, but then he would also run the risk incurring the wrath of Mikasa and Armin.

There are a few cars parked up, many with fogged up windows, jolting with intense movement every now and then. He recognises one about ten metres away that’s definitely Reiner’s -- in the back seat he spots the faint glow of a cigarette, in the passenger seat is Bert, speaking animatedly, but also, looking incredibly panicked.

The car just to their left is bumping and jumping manically, and Jean can’t help but watch as a palm -- two palms -- press desperately up against the pane of the glasses.

 _‘Just like that scene in Titanic’_ , thought Jean. He and Eren were about to do a Jack-And-Rose on it like many of the other car park occupants, and the idea was actually kinda thrilling (even though he was reluctant to admit it).

Eren pulls the keys out of the ignition and the hum of the engine quiets. He sits for a moment, one hand still holding on firmly to the warm fabric of the steering wheel as he quietly observes, taking in the view over Shiganshina. Even in the car, Jean can still hear the buzzing of nightlife; the sirens and car horns from the city, the sounds of stray dogs barking, people laughing obnoxiously -- Cicadas, hidden among the trees, loudly rattling in the wet heat of the evening.

Eren heaves a sigh, leaning back and taking out his phone to take a picture of the sprawling cityscape. Next thing, he’s opening his messenger and then sending it to Mikasa with a message attached wishing that she were there, too. Jean hums to himself -- it never fails to make him smile, Eren’s sentimentality, he would never admit to being a big fool with feelings, but he was.

“So, should we get started?” Eren tries, fingers tapping on the wheel, eyebrows wagging and slanting in a way that he would construe as ‘sexy’.

Jean gawks at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to look hot and appealing,” he purrs in a poor French accent -- the application of which Jean could not fathom. He lays back, arm resting on the back of the seat and untying his long hair, tossing it over his shoulder in the most dramatic fashion possible. “Do you like what you see?”

Jean groans and rolls his eyes to high-heaven, taking the initiative and leaning over the gear stick to plant a kiss on Eren’s lips -- it was an invitation to get the ball rolling, but mostly for him to fucking shut up.

Eren chuckles, a deep warm rumble in his chest, and Jean can feel the soothing vibration as he presses the tips of his fingers into the fabric of the jersey. His finger gently pressing into the tendons of Jean’s neck, thumbs brushing against his pierced lobes.

Whatever Eren does makes a thrill run through him, making his mouth gape against Eren’s own -- he is only in the right mind to kiss and sigh into his mouth. He doesn’t know anything else right now, doesn’t want anyone else.

They remain like that for what feels like forever; swapping kisses, rife with spit and tongue, Eren’s attempt at growing a beard scraping against Jean’s more pronounced fuzz. Jean shuffles then, trying to move himself over Eren so that he hovers just over him, his head grazing the roof of the car and his boney knees banging against the control as he manoeuvres himself around.

“I wanna suck your cock,” Eren murmurs against the skin of his neck as he bites and sucks at the sinewy muscle. A weak moan escapes Jean as Eren’s hands palm against his chest -- the heels of his hands against his freshly pierced nipples

Jean grins against his ear, feigning cocky because he wants more of _this_ Eren. “You wanna what?”

Eren growls and bites down, hard, making Jean’s hips jump and his cock pulse with need. “I said, I wanna su--“

“Yo! Erejean!”

_‘What the.’_

The pair break apart -- Jean jumping back with an uncharacteristic squeak and whacking his head off the roof, Eren looking like he wants the Earth to swallow him whole. Eren swivels where he’s sat, face burning bright right read, and Jean squirms around him to sit upright because he’s really too fucking tall for this car.

At the window, interrupting their fun, is none other than Ymir. Her face is pressed against the glass, opening and closing her mouth like a fish.

Jean presses his head against the dashboard because of course Ymir would interrupt them, of all people. He still hadn’t recovered from the time he had everyone over for drinks and she discovered his dildo stash, stuck one with a suction cup to her forehead and proceeded to call herself ‘Dildocorn’.

Eren rolls down the window, and Jean can see the apprehension as he does so.

“... Hey Ymir.”

She wags her eyebrows in a way that’s almost nefarious to Jean--like she’s planning a devious scheme and everyone is involved, regardless of whether they want to be or not.

“Hey yourselves,” she replies, throat gravelly, likely from the excessive amount of weed she smokes. “So, what are you gays up to?”

“We aren’t gay.”

“Ok then, what are you bisexuals up to?”

“Extra-curricular stuff,” answers Eren, rather cooly. Jean thuds his head off the dash again.

“Oh wow, very cool,” she smiles. “Without Mikasa.”

“She didn’t want to, uh, hang out in the Golf.”

Ymir frowns ever so slightly, eyes drawn to Jean’s gangly appearance as he sits scrunched up and then to the amount of miscellaneous shit in the backseat -- books, clothes, sports equipment, probably a dildo.

“I can see why…”

“Ymir!”

At an instant a tiny blonde woman is at Ymir’s side, arms around her waist and barely grazing the top of her shoulder. The taller tanned woman leans to press a kiss to her crown, making at obnoxiously loud smacking noise as she straightens herself.

“Erejean, this is Historia, I’m sure you guys have heard much about her,” Ymir, again, wags her eyebrows, and Jean is poised to wonder if there’s a reason she’s compelled to keep doing it. Eren smiles at her, reaching out to shake hands and Jean’s patience is reaching its threshold.

“I’m Eren and this is my boyfriend Jean w--”

“They have a really hot girlfriend, y’know Mikasa, from sexuality studies.”

Historia’s eyes flash, intrigue working its way into her expression.

“Oh yes! Mikasa! She’s great, really kind and smart.”

“And hot.”

“Ymir!” She hisses, lightly slapping her on the forearm. “But yes, and hot.”

Jean smacks his head off the dash again in hopes of incurring brain damage.

“Eh, y’know, Jean and I were just about to go, it’s kinda late.”

Jean looks past Eren, and meets Historia’s gaze. “Yeah, plus, I need to shit.”

Ymir grimaces and holds Historia closer to her. “Gross.”

“Explosive diarrhea,” Eren nods. “It’s really bad.”

Historia looks up at Ymir, worrying her lip between her teeth, clearly wanting to move on and not be part of this conversation about actual literal shit. Ymir, doesn’t even look at her, but is seemingly already put out by the gross topic of conversation, but she senses Historia’s disgust, because she’s wrapping an arm around the woman’s shoulder and pulling her away.

“TMI, Eren.”

“Just letting you know how serious the shits are.”

“Uh… Ok,” she blinks, turning away from Eren and Jean. “Well, see you around,” she calls back, giving an uneven wave and toothy smile before ushering Historia into the car just next to them.

Eren pulls up the window and looks at Jean who has a fresh, purple bruise blossoming on his forehead, brows knitted together in frustration, his boner: gone.

“Explosive diarrhea? Really?!”

Erens shrugs. “I didn’t think that ‘Jean needs to shit’ was really going to cut it, to be honest.”

“Ok, yeah! But now Ymir is going to think that we’re going to fuck whilst I have the shits.”

“Ymir doesn’t know that we’re going to fuck.”

“Ymir is perceptive as fuck numbnuts,” Jean growls, slapping Eren upside the head. “Of course she knows that we were going to fuck! We’re hardly gonna be doing extra curricular work in a car park on the mountainside!”

Jean huffs to himself -- leaning way back into the seat and folding his arms, frowning like a petulant child. Eren rolls his eyes and looks away, fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

“I know somewhere we could go,” Eren begins after a few moments of silence, putting the key back into the ignition, turning it a few times before the car comes back to life. “Not exactly romantic, but it should be private.”

Jean eyes him, noting that the same mischievous spark had returned to his eyes.

 _‘Private, but not romantic, ok’_ Jean muses, yeah, he could do that, somewhere out of the way, somewhere he won’t get a pine cone up his ass, somewhere they won’t be interrupted by Ymir. “Where is it?”

“Over the river. Near the Liberio District flats.”

Jean pinches the bridge of his nose; near the flats huh? Probably not one of the nicest places in the city, but it was full of nooks and crannies that were often worth exploring, so at least Eren was right about it being private. Plus, it was nearby too. 

“Right,” Jean sighs, running his fingers through his sandy hair is frustration -- this whole process was taking so long and he just wanted this night to end with Eren’s dick in his ass, or in his mouth, either way, he didn’t fucking care. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s just go—I’m horny as fuck.”

“Sweet.”

Eren smiles and revs the engine -- the wheels skidding and rubber burning as they pull out of the lot, and speed down the roads that wind their way over the hillside, into the bright lights of the city in search of their destination.

**

Jean knew that when Eren suggested the Liberio area that he shouldn’t get his hopes up, yet, when they finally stopped somewhere, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed anyway.

They had set down in a cul de sac that was empty, totally devoid of life; the area was under construction with new tower buildings being created in order to house the recent influx of students into the area who went of to attend the local university. It was plain and greyscale, the only lightsource being the orange gloam of the public lighting fixtures. He pulls down the window ever so slightly, the only sounds permeating the air being the sounds of police sirens and dogs barking.

“Bit grim, Eren.”

“Well, it’s private,” he sighed, letting the car go quiet. “What more could you want, huh?”

Jean blew air out his nose, annoyed that none of tonight had really gone to plan, but Eren was right -- they finally had their peace. He smiles at him.

“I want you then, I guess.”

Eren grins, smile so dazzling and alluring, like a prince or some shit like that, and Jean feels his heart skip a beat -- or maybe that was to do with the heart palpitations and the amount of caffeine he had been drinking lately.

He leans over then and kisses Eren; it’s rough, and a bit awkward, but he kisses back and has to contain a sigh as Jean’s hands traverse his torso -- feeling the warm, firm flesh beneath his jersey.

“Soon,” Eren murmurs, warm breath against Jean’s chapped, dry, lips. He bites down then, taking Jean’s bottom lip between his teeth and slipping his tongue in alongside Jean’s. The intimate gesture makes Jean whine, and soon enough, his pants begin to feel tight around his crotch.

Eren moves his hands, trailing his fingertips over Jean’s chest, thumbs dragging over Jean’s clothed, pierced nipples. He groans into Eren’s mouth, a choked noise almost, and Eren can’t help but smile -- he was always so sensitive there.

There’s frantic hands then, Jean desperately reaching for his belt and fly, needing to feel the heat and wet of Eren’s mouth. A hand captures his wrist then and restrains him, and Eren goes to work at his own pace, undoing his seatbelt and practically crawling into Jean’s lap, tugging down Jean’s jeans past his thighs to his knees. He leans over and mouths Jean’s cock through the fabric of his boxers -- this in itself ushers a hiss from him, making him swear under his breath and moving to weave his fingers into Eren’s long hair. 

Eren’s fingers wrap around the band of Jean’s underwear, tugging them over his hips so that he can finally, _finally_ , put his mouth around him. He pushes into Jean’s space again, and the movement crushes the taller man into the passenger seat, Eren’s full weight, heavy and warm, solid, in his lap, resting against his torso and thighs.

The feel of Eren’s tongue sliding around the head of his cock is luxurious -- and Jean is savouring every moment of it. There are delicate kisses along the length, on the underside of his cock, lips brushing his balls, Eren’s attempt at facial hair scraping against the meat of his thighs. 

There is the slip and press of tongue along his cock as Eren’s mouth comes to rest on the head, opening his mouth to wrap his mouth over the top.

He peers up at Jean, loose hairs coming undone and falling over his eyes, Eren’s intense gold eyes. “I want you to fuck my mouth,” he rasps, hand coming to grip Jean’s cock, pulling off it to spit in his hand.

Jean nods, completely dazed -- his throat dry from the display, Eren’s glossy hair reflecting the orange lamplights and the oncoming flashes on blue and red light.

Eren sinks down on Jean’s cock, slick, wet spit covering the entirety of his length all the way to the base. That’s Jean’s que then; he tightens his grip in Eren’s hair and pushes his hips forward, forcing Eren to throat his cock even more. A groan escapes him as he sees Eren’s throat undulate, hears him choke wetly, before pulling him off completely, roughly, a long rope of saliva connecting the head of his cock to Eren’s wet, spit covered lips.

“Shit,” he hisses, forcing Eren down again, watching as the man lets his jaw go slack as he begins to fuck his throat.

“C’mon Eren,” he taunts, picking up speed and beginning to fuck his mouth at pace, Eren’s wet gagging noises only urging him on. “You can do better tha--”

A bang on the window.

“You two realise that this is private property, right?”

An officer. Like, the actual fucking police.

‘ _This can not be happening._ ’

Eren looks up from where he is, and quickly draws his mouth away from Jean’s cock -- lips still covered in precum and spit. Jean doesn’t even need to look over at him to know that he is, without doubt, about to burst into flames.

He quickly stuffs his cock back into his pants, boner dead and forgotten.

“Officer, sir, we--”

“Save it.” 

He looks over at Eren through Jean’s window, the tanned man sat ramrod straight in his seat, positively shaking and afraid to look at the officer.

“License and registration, kiddo.”

With shaky hands, Eren reaches for the glove compartment -- the door banging against Jean’s knees as it opens. He pulls out his license and hands it to the officer, a short man, buff and slightly brutish looking, who also was wearing sunglasses despite it being past 10pm.

The officer tilts his shades down and takes a good look at the license, and then at Eren, and then at the license, and then at Eren, again.

“So, fuckhead,” he takes off his glasses and passes the license (well… throws) back through the window. “You’re Mikasa’s boyfriend, right?”

Jean blinks.

‘ _What._ ’

“Uh, yeah, ho--how do you know Mikasa, sir?”

The man, Jean realises, has very sharp eyes and dark, onyx hair, he is also wearing a name tag that reads ‘L. ACKERMAN’.

_.... Oh._

“I’m her uncle, dickweed,” he snaps. “And you being out here sucking dick on private property, when you’re dating my niece, is a problem for me. So you better get explaining.”

Eren looks at Jean, and then at officer Ackerman, and then back at Jean.  
“Ok, so, Mikasa, Jean and I had all discussed the idea of public sex, but Mikasa didn’t want to have sex in the Golf, so she told Jean and I to go ahead and now we’re here,” he takes a breath, waiting for the officer to reach in and strangle him, but instead he looks slightly put out and confused.

“You could’ve spared me the details about my niece.”

“Well, you did ask, Sir.”

“Did I ask you horsehead?”

“No Sir... Sorry Sir.”

Officer Ackerman sighs, pushing his forehead into his hands.

“I’m letting you two off,” he begins, and Jean can feel the relief swell in his chest. “But, if I catch you two dumbfuckers around here again, I’ll be taking you down to the station. Are we clear?”

“Yes sir!” the two younger men chant in unison. The officer nods and begins to walk away.

“Good. Now, get out of my sight,” and with that he climbs into his squad car, parked just behind Eren and Jean, and pulls away out of the cul de sac.

Eren’s hands shake as he grasps the steering wheel.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

**

When the pair get back to their house Mikasa is home, not helping Armin with math, wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa, eating a tub of ice-cream and watching something on the Hallmark channel. Her face is red and streaked with tears and there are a ton of tissues scattered about.

“Hey,” she sniffles, shoving a spoon of mint chocolate into her mouth. “Did you guys have a good evening?”

Jean and Eren sit either side of her and look at each other, and then at her.

“No.”

“Hmm. That’s a pity,” she muses, licking the spoon. “Did Jean get a pinecone up his ass?”

“No.”

“Even worse,” Eren interjects, prying of his sneakers with his toes. “We got caught. By the police.”

“What?” Mikasa questions, jumping up and unfurling herself from the blanket. “The police!?”

“It gets even worse,” Eren slouches into the sofa and reaches for Mikasa’s half empty tub of ice-cream, beginning to shovel the remains into his mouth. “It was your uncle. He caught me with Jean’s dick in my mouth.”

Mikasa blanches.

“Oh my god.”

“Ya-huh.”

“So, my uncle Levi has seen you suck Jean’s dick. And has seen Jean’s dick.”

“Yep.”

Mikasa pinches the bridge of her nose and leans over to scoop the tub of ice-cream out of Eren’s hands before heading for the stairs.

“Goodnight,” she simply says, climbing the stairs as quickly as possible, loudly slamming their bedroom door.

Eren looks at his hands where the ice-cream once was.

“Think she took that badly?”

“Yes, Eren.”

“It will be really awkward now if we see him at Christmas.”

“Mikasa is Jewish.”

“Ok then, Hanukkah.”

Jean laughs at that, moving to slide in closer to Eren as he puts his feet up on the coffee table. They sit there for a while, watching whatever garbage Hallmark movie Mikasa had on -- it does make Eren cry, just a bit, but by the time it’s over he is fast asleep. The blanket it strewn over him and there are tissues still all over the floor.

The TV is turned off then -- Jean sits and listens to Eren’s quiet, gentle snores, and leans over to fix the blanket around Eren’s shoulder.

The thoughts regarding the night swirl around in his head; maybe if they had chose somewhere else they wouldn’t have gotten caught. Maybe, if they had just fucked in the woods like Mikasa recommended they would’ve just been eaten alive by a bear or some other wildlife, which frankly, was far more appealing than being caught by Mikasa’s uncle Levi.

He settles beside Eren then, squeezing in alongside him, feeling his body heat soak through the blanket, smiling to himself as his thoughts lingered on the evening’s overwhelming stupidity.

As he drifts off, he dreams of pine cones and thinks that he can vaguely smell Eren’s car freshener.

It is a pleasant enough sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me dumb asks at bimikasa.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments really motivate me, so please leave them! you can also find me at bimikasa.tumblr.com!!


End file.
